Dawn Of Nightmares
by Horizon Luster
Summary: Samanosuke's journey with the time folder is nothing but the prologue of our tale. Soon more events will be improvised by the passing chapters, each speak of the untold voyages of the characters. I do not own any of the characters nor the story Onimusha, everything belongs to the respectful owners.
1. The Wheels Of Fortune

It was like a passing dream, almost unreal. . . Not a day did he imagine to slice the flesh of the devil, to play the valiant's role in such a way, to be granted such great power followed with big responsibilities.

Has it truly been fourteen years since that day of the awakening? How cruel could the wheels of time be? Once wind brought the news of the death of his beloved partner his heart was filled with agony and sorrow.

Fourteen years wasted, if only the Great Samanosuke could manipulate time, he certainly would have ceased its wheels from revolving.

No matter how much he grieves for the dead, his cries will never reach them, never will they hear. . . never will they know.

After shedding this much tears the Samurai acknowledged the grand conclusion, those tears are of no use, for they will not bring those who departed from the realm of the living, it is futile to cry over the dead, for they shall never return. . . But he mourns because he is human, a human with complex of emotions, how can a passionate being not lament for their loss?

Many soldiers fell amidst the battlefield, the flames of war showed no mercy to the peaceful villagers, a blazing battle with its beginning long forgotten, however its ending will be marked down as the greatest in the history of Japan.

Carrying on his duty with a miserable heart and a unwavering courage, the Nobel Samanosuke Akechi made his way to the Genma Tank that was heading to Honoji Temple to support Nobunaga Oda.

His face hid well behind the veil, his swords moved swiftly to slaughter the dreadful Genmas, using the Oni Gauntlet to trap the lost souls. Only little time was left until the enemy's tank reaches Honoji Temple. Hastily, he ran to where the controlling chamber is, giving no heed to the Genmas pursuit. His blade greeted the glass surface of the door, shattering it to bits and bits. Orbitals that reflected the colours of rage and agony settled upon the imprisoned tainted Oni, Gargant. Two spear wielding Genmas who were set off guarding charged at the valiant, as the battle between spears and blades began. During the clash, the veil that covered his face would slip off exposing his identity. Only then, the tainted Oni, Gargant demanded the two spear wielders to halt. For a splendid battle between the Great Samanosuke and the Gargant is about to begin, vigorously he leapt towards him. Flashing sword to sword, it almost seemed the chances of victory was very thin to the Samurai, however. . . Shifting his heed from the fight to the strange machine fueled with Dark Essence. If he were to destroy it, the Genma Tank will never reach Nobunaga.

Piercing his sword at machine's center, it began to erupt. Gargant desperately threw his own weapon on his target in hopes of taking him down before he succeeds, however, Samanosuke had already jumped off the flying vehicle escaping greatly.

The Genma Tank was no more, so were the Genmas abroad, yet Gargant was the only one who remained standing. Barely did Samanosuke catch his breath after this blazing battle, another is yet to begin. Transforming into an Onimusha, his skin changed to dark, and his ebony locks faded to white, tresses dancing with the calm wind. He gathered all the wondering souls of the fallen Genmas and trapped them in his Gauntlet.

Gargant took out his blade and slashed, yet his blade greeted the Onimusha's sword, deflecting his attack he quickly stabbed the other's stomach, and at that moment their eyes met.

Gargant's orbitals were filled with shock and wonder, but by the passing seconds they changed into pleased ones. His lips parted as a satisfied laugh escaped his vocals, why laugh at such moment? The moment of his fall? Perhaps his wish was to die in such a battle?

There wasn't more time to lose, the successful Samanosuke hurried to Honoji Temple, regrouping with the troops that is led by the rebellious Mitsuhide Akechi. The troops assaulted the temple, while Samanosuke encountered the tyrant Nobunaga.

"Nobunaga!"

Shouted the valiant with his voice accompanied with rage, he was soon responded with a scornful laugh from the Genma Lord.

"If it isn't Samanosuke Akechi. You have come from a long journey, however I'm afraid that it shall end now."

Before Nobunaga attempted to draw his blade, his vassal that goes by the name Ranmaru Mori stood his ground and asked permission of his Lord to take this one down. Ever so arrogantly he belittled the Great Samanosuke Akechi. His fingers embraced the hilt of his sword, pulling it out of its sheath. Displaying confidence to his fine abilities, there he charged at the noble samurai. Sword to sword again, until the valiant saw an opening to his chest, slashing at it.

"M. . . My Lord. . . I failed you. . ."

Mumbled the lad what was concluded to be his final departing words. The Genma Lord did not display any sort of emotions towards the fallen Ranmaru, neither did he feel pity nor shame; for he was nothing more but a expandable asset to him.

This battle had several interruption, making it seem as though this war is never ending. However, this is not the time to stop.

A small black hole appeared from the wooden surface of the burning grounds, it stretched wider and wider until it enshrouded him with a coat of darkness, it dragged him along with the fallen Ranmaru. And the two figures vanish before Nobunaga's very eyes.

"What is this?"

Wondered the warlord in amazement coupled with confusion. Even amidst devastating wars, the wheels of fate will not cease from revolving no matter the circumstances. Now, what will be the fate of our hero? Where shalt he be guided? Only time will tell.


	2. A Twist In Time

Meanwhile, at the other side of the globe and at a different time period there was a ruinous battle being fought in a city that knew no fear nor violence.

The morning of this city that was promised to be peaceful was like no other, the azure sky faded to gray and was soon occupied with Genmas falling from the heavens. As the light of the day disappeared. Those vicious monsters mercilessly massacred their defenseless preys. Those miserable human run with a terrified pounding hearts that could not contain the amount of terror they experience. Those limbs of theirs moves swiftly like the wind as their minds were absent of where to go or hide. Is there any spot safe from these monsters? May there be a sanctuary? Many were slaughtered on the road, the colour red painted the street's pavements, the insides of many were torn out adorning the soil. Some thought to take shelter in the churches, perhaps the Divine One will descend from the Heavens to protect his children from the horror of those misshapen creatures. Many rushed in with eyes reflecting the hope they had stored in their hearts. However, the sight of the slain priest delivered even greater fright in their hearts. Is there no God to save them?

The mercenaries' rifles did only little good on striking back those ruthless deformed fiends. However, they did not stand a chance. Each died miserably. . . One by one they fall. It felt as though the ball of death was randomly taking down lives on the billiards cushion.

However, there is one man who is determined to survive. He stood his ground and kept attacking the assaulting Genmas with his rifle, with a comrade beneath him taking his final breathes. It was only a matter of time that he ran out of ammunition. But he could not die now, he cannot accept death; for he still has his beloved son to meet. At the moment when all hope is lost, a figure dressed in crimson armor appeared rushing from the alley.

He sliced the terrible Genmas with his two swords with ease. After disposing of the nuisance he was greeted with a foreign tongue.

"Un Samouraï?" Wondered the Westerner in amazement, he could tell that this stranger is Japanese but he was having his doubts that he is from this era. Because in this age and time, sword arts are long forgotten.

"Where are we?" Asked the noble Samurai with a stern tone. This area was unfamiliar, there were countless of objects and machines that seemed outlandish to him. Those burning vehicles, the black pillars that gave off light from their crowns, and those machines that were changing colours from red to yellow to green. He certainly has visited many foreign lands at his earlier days, the days before he became the chosen one. However, his eyes never witnessed such sophisticated objects.

"Qui es-tu? Que se passe-t-il?" He responded again with a language the other is not familiar with, the perplexed valiant gazed at the man dressed in blue with confusion reflecting from his eyes. Acknowledging that he will not receive the answers to his questions, he turned away and marched forth to investigate the area.

"Huh. . .?" The moment of Samanosuke's departure the Westerner was engulfed in a coat as black as coal, it not only dragged him alone, but also his suffering comrade. The screams of despair and agony attracted the man's ears, with haste he returned to where the two encountered, only to watch him vanish in darkness.

"What is happening. . . ?" His eyes traveled from place to place until they settled on a distant unpleasant figure.

"Guildstern!" Shouted Samanosuke with anger, the sight of this Scientist delivered a stream of vile memories to the Oni Warrior. This Guildstern is the one responsible for this havoc, no doubt. That was the most sensible conclusion.

The man hurried to where the Genma Scientist was waiting, during his travels his eyes were acquainted with lots of queer sceneries.

As Samanosuke was concerned with this journey in the future, Jaques has one to attend in the past. The peculiar man gave no heed to the place he was brought to, his biggest concern was his injured companion.

"Phillipe!" He shouted his name as he rushed at his side, whatever could the mercenary do now? His dearest friend was dying in his arms.

"I. . . I could have died, by my wife's side. . . But I. . . I'm dying in your arms. . . Jaques!" His final words were occupied with great regret and sadness, oh how much he longs to see his wife one last time. However, his time is past, so is his life.

"Phillipe! Phillipe!" He continued calling his name in the hopes of him returning to the land of the living, but of what use is his cries and grieves? After mourning over his dear friend's demise he has sworn to take revenge, those hideous monsters will not see the light of the day.

His hand came across the corpses face, lowering his eyes sockets to conceal his eyes. That was the least he could do for now. Despite the unfortunate events he has encountered, he must press forward. The screams of a child echoed in the distance. However, this child was nothing but a mere illusion. Jaques hurried to save his beloved son, mercilessly he slayed the Genma with the Oni whip he was granted. Thus he passed the trial and proved to be worthy of carrying the Gauntlet and becoming the Onimusha.

In this journey, he is not alone; for he has been acquainted with a little Tengu. One that was able to travel through time and space to offer whatever help to both Samanosuke and Jaques. Cooperating with the past Samanosuke, he was successful to reach Nobunaga and end him. Nonetheless, the Genma Lord refused to die. He stood on his feet once again and disposed of the past Samanosuke, and before the Westerner could react he was sucked in a Time Folder returning him to his own era. There he met the present Samanosuke, unfortunately the memories he had with the past one were not in this ones position. Yet the way he looked at him did not change, he was still the companion he can trust, a partner in battle. They all said their farewells before Samanosuke returns to his time in Honoji Temple. Perhaps. . . Someday they would all meet again? Who knows. The Oni warrior still had a battle to end, to crush Nobunaga's ambitions. This battle soon became a Legend. This chapter ends with Nobunaga Oda fall. His presence will no longer linger in this realm; for he is trapped in the Oni Gauntlet.

It has been a long journey for Samanosuke Akechi, however his voyage refused to end. It shan't end until he is successful in sealing the Gauntlet for good.


	3. After Tragedy Comes The Quest

Nobunaga attempted to unite the land using the Genma and ruling with an iron fist. However, the Onimusha were able to halt his blind ambition. The Genma Lord vanished amidst the flames of Honoji Temple, his corpse was not discovered neither was a trace left of him. The Genmas set off hiding, without a Lord to support them nor aid them. Who was the next to rule this land next? A man that goes by the name Hideyoshi Toyatomi, formerly known as Tokachiro Kinoshita. He used to be nothing but a cruel trickster. Nonetheless, he was Nobunaga's retainer, soon he took his place after his demise.

Many have thought by Hideyoshi ruling the land the terror and dread that spreads across the land shall halt. Hideyoshi succeeded in uniting the land. Little did the people know that the past events were nothing but a prologue of a more dreadful nightmare.

Death has stretched its arms to capture all who cross the borders of Japan under Toyotomi's command. Those who were aboard the San Filpe were massacred mercilessly, was it the work of the Genma or Toyotomi's soldiers. None lived to tell the tale. The ship final travel was to the harbor of the Forbidden City of Sakai.

An ominous star appeared in the night's sky, colouring its center with the dim hues of crimson and scarlet. The appearance of the strange star was followed with countless natural disaster. The volcanoes erupt wrathfully, burning countless of villages and suffocating lots of citizens. A massive earthquake dug the solid ground, causing the fall of Fushimi Castle in Kyoto. Hurricanes swept the life out this land, leaving nothing but crows feasting upon the dead.

What shall be the fate of this country? We shall discover as the events of our story uncovers.

Kyushu lays at the South-East of Japan, it is famous for its active volcanoes. On this vast land lived a little child like no other. A lad with distinctive appearance, his tresses were as golden as the desert's sands. His skin as pale as snow, with eyes coloured in deep blue. For a child, he was taller than average. The children mocked him and played, the adults scorned and harassed his Asian mother.

On a rainy night, soldiers sent from Nagoya Castle under Hideyoshi's order invaded the village that lays in Kyushu. The youthful woman were mostly captured, all men were mercilessly butchered. And as for the children, their body parts were taken as trophies. Only little did survive the sudden invasion.

The second a certain mother heard the desperate screams echoing outside her humble cottage, she barred the door from the inside in hopes of them forsaking this desolated cottage or the least to buy herself a time to hide her beloved son. She rushed into the bedroom where she found her son peeping from the window, trying to catch glimpse of whatever havoc is being wrecked outside with his pair of curious eyes.

"Roberto!" Yelled the mother in an apprehensive tone, before the lad could respond she pulled him away from the window into a crouching embrace. Hoping to hide him from the soldier's eyes.

"Roberto. . . I'm sorry. . . I wish if I could stay with you a while longer, there's still. . . So much I want to show you. . . So much I want to teach you. . . You are a gentle and passionate boy, please. . . Be strong and live well, my son. . ."

Her caring words escaped her trembling lips in the form of soft whispers. Her slender fingers dug to his clothes. Without knowing what may happen to the two this time, Roberto spoke in a unshaken tone.

"Mother, don't say that. You needn't to fear at all. I'll protect you, like always."

Her eyes flooded with tears, the dark flames of despair engulfed her heart after hearing those words. A smile adorned her frightened face.

"N-no. . . Roberto, this time. . . I'll protect you. I promise to save you."

"Mother?"

The bar that was placed over the door did not keep those blood thirsty soldiers from coming. However, it did buy the two some time to say a proper goodbye.

The General dressed in red came along with two regular soldiers in the room where the two were hiding, all what was visible to them was the visage of the back of a crouching woman. She was humming a short lullaby in her child's ear.

"Fetch that woman. She'd make a fine tree."

Demanded the General in a vicious voice, the two soldiers only obeyed and each were dragging her from her arms yet she refused to move. It was only a matter of time the General loses his tolerance, he pierced his sword to her chest swiftly.

"Tch. . . You chose death over becoming of any use to the Lord. Let's head out, we are done here."

They departed from the small cottage with satisfied grins plastered on their facial features. With widened eyes he stared at his dying mother, his hand brushed against her wound wiping the blood off in hopes of all the pain would go away once the blood disappears. But no matter how much blood he swipes, only more poured out. He yelled and cried out for his dying mother, but he was only responded with soundless moans. At that time, the lad was acquainted with a different level of despair. One that can never bring his loved one back, one that none could save him from his solitude.

After spending hours grieving for the woman who loved and raised him, he carried her lifeless body and placed her on the wooden surface of the bed. Reorganizing few of her misplaced ebony locks with his fingers gently.

His hand gripped on her tightly, lightly squeezing. Miserable blue eyes settled on the visage of his mother, a hand brushed against her eyes, closing her opened lids.

"You'll always be the Masterpiece in my heart. . . engraved in my soul. . . Mother."

Weeks passed and those who survived remained in their mournful state, a few decided to forsake this village and its unpleasant memories. And others decided to rebuild the village. However, they weren't successful; due to the lack of youthful workers.

The days that followed that tragic night were all rainy, no villager was fortunate to see the light of the day. Only the gray clouds that coated the sun completely. The smell of death has spread all across this small land. Beneath the wet soil hid the rotting the bodies of the dead.

Ever since that day of grief, Roberto was taking care of a rose his mother always watched over for several years. She told him that this crimson rose was a gift from his late father. This rose was her garden, her soul mate, and her world.

Those several weeks then became passing months, the rainy sky waved at this land its final goodbye. As the spring rushed in to greet it once more from such a long time. Those depressing clouds abandoned the heavens, and the sun stretched its brilliance across the region.

Spring is the most pleasant season of the year. It is when the shy flowers blossom beautifully, holding its petals proudly. And when the little canaries gather along, singing the merry song of joy.

What Spring displays from beauty made the lad recollect a poem he read in a book that he adored so dearly. A poem reflecting the wisdom and the philosophy of an author by the name Hans Christian Andersen.

"Life is a shadow that flits away  
In a night of darkness and woe."

"Life has the rose's sweet perfume  
With sunshine, light, and joy."

【 After Tragedy Comes The Quest 】

A priest traveled to this forsaken village at the first day of Spring. He wore the most sweetest and inviting smile. His sapphires traveled here and there until they settled upon a young boy with a unusual appearance. He marched forth to the lad who was showing the blossoming rose that he had inherited the play of the Spring.

"Did you know my boy, that roses have their own literature to teach?"

Words spoken by the elder in a tone coupled with wisdom and a unlimited capacity of kindness. Such captivating words captured Roberto's heed. He averted his gaze to the priest's visage. Despite his poor vision, all what he could see was the radiation of light focusing on a single individual. His presence itself was so settling.

"Tell me little one, are you living alone?"

He was responded with a slight head shake.

"Would you like to accompany me then? I'll take you to adventures and have you meet new friends." He requested in a soft and inviting tone, the lustrous light he gave off was so divine it almost looked as if he was an Angel sent from the Heavens above to rescue this child.

"Papa. . . ."

Whispered the he who endured countless of tragedies alone. The aura this priest gave off was somewhat Father-like. Roberto has never known his father. Nonetheless, he knew that his mother loved him so dearly and treasured the rose he gave to her.

The priest stretched his hand towards Roberto, gesturing him to tug on it if he decides to come. Several seconds passed until he took his hand. And at that moment, he knew he was saved, from this burden, this pain, this solitude.

The choice was finally made, and the two set off to a voyage traveling to Sakai Osaka. There, Roberto will discover his new home, and his new family. Could this possibly be the end of his tragedy? And a start of a whole new fortunate chapter in his story?

All questions shall be answered while the pen's ink adorns the silky paper.


	4. He Who Lusts For Vengeance

"The wheels of time revolve,

Summer followed by Winter,

Autumn to Spring

The wilting flowers cry:

'Oh now we shall miss the joys of life'

The blooming flowers sing:

'Mankind is blind to the beauty of Spring.' "

"The current carries the fallen leafs of Autumn,

Each petal dances with the rhythm of the wind."

"The scarlet star is dazzling,

The sky is now screaming:

'Our Lord will descend from the heavens.'

Is there no place to turn,

From this chaos unstirred?"

"The Serpent and the Fiend,

neither a villain nor a valiant.

Now the story they shalt feast."

The crescent moon floated at the night's sky, a sky that is stripped from all twinkling stars. Shame did the moon display to those who live on the soil. Why was it feeling shame, you ask? Because its light is no longer the brightest. A scarlet distant star was illuminating the dark coat.

No longer could the waning moon compete with the ominous star. So it made a decision of its own to travel to oblivion; perhaps it would find someone who would appreciate its luster more.

Those who resident on the ground began neglecting the existence of the moon as they gave their full heed to the strange star that appeared so suddenly.

The streets of Higashi in Osaka, were completely empty. None dared to lay a foot outside except for the reckless or the foolish.

Once the sun sets down, civilians rush to their houses and close the doors and windows. The merchants gather their goods, shuts their shops then flee away.

What do they dread you wonder?

Ever since the appearance of this Omen, countless of tragedies followed with tyranny occurred. Lots of natural disasters took place, specially in Fushimi Castle located in Kyoto. So did a mysterious change overtook Hideyoshi Toyotomi. From Japan's savior and hero, he became a ruthless tyrant. Those dark hues of his turned scarlet red, burning with the flames of greed. The moments of tranquility were no more, as the land began to cry again. The crimson star grows larger by the passing nights as chaos swirls around on this dying land.

The destruction was not satisfied to remain on one region, its arms stretched out to other lands that lays overseas. As the invasion began.

Some say that this is the wrath of the God of Calamity. Many agreed others denied the existence of such a God. Some were asking astrologers for knowledge about the floating, but the only answer they learned is that this land is doomed.

Others say that this is the work of the devious devil, so they hurry to the monks at the mountains demanding them to cleanse this land from the evil. However, the saints doubt in the activity of the demons.

This is all rumors and chatter,

None learned the truth.

A slender figure dressed in crimson kimono with outlandish patterns that were difficult to identify strolled in the hollow streets of Higashi. Her lips were occupied with singing out the strange poem in the most cunning and elusive of voices.

Like an ebony serpent with such soft and dazzling skin, tempting a fool only to pierce her venomous fangs against her prey's neck.

By the time her ominous poetry came to an end, orbitals that reflected the distinguish silver hues traveled to the heavens, her focus fixated on the Omen above.

A sly smirk curved her pink lips displaying a satisfied expression.

"The ballet of fools will take place in due time." The ballet of fools? What kind of Music shall be played om such a ballet? What will this ballet consist.

A thumb rested to rivet of the fine folding fan, the remaining of her fingers supported the sticks. The fan's guard was as dark as night, decorated with golden carvings of spider lilies as the leaves were made with the finest fabric, its edges were smooth, so was its surface crimson with flowery patterns. Folding what was in her hand, she slipped it to her long sleeve.

"I need to be entertained." Words were paired with a concluding sigh. Bored eyes traveled to a certain deserted house. Taking a seat on the wooden surface of the floor, her feet settled on the soft moist blades of grass.

A figure sneaked from the shadows of the sliding door. It appeared to be folding its arms against its chest and leaning against the wall. At each side he wielded a sword, his right eye was obstructed with an eyepatch adorned with a small red ribbon on its center and thin scarlet threads at its edges.

"You'll know how to entertain me, hmph?" She vocalized her desire without the need of glancing back to identify him.

"Wouldn't it entertain you to go to a little journey?~"

"Hmph, enlighten me.~" His question was answered with a demand, as a

"A journey to pay our respects to the old Jubei, I know you'll enjoy your role.~" A grin that reflected the malice of her intentions occupied her lips. "The old Jubei, eh? Now aren't you the devil.~" A short scornful snicker came out his vocals.

"Shall we then?"

The night came passing slowly and the sun did not dare to rise until those two satisfied with their boredom. Miles away laid the Yagyu village that was being rebuilt over many years by its youth.

All went to sleep at this late hour. All excluding a single individual, the chief of the village, Sekisusha Yagyu.

At the desolated forest he stood alone. This certain spot hasn't changed the slightest in spite of the many years. The same white flowers wilted and bloomed on the same terra firma. The waterfall poured its cleansed water to the river that seemed endless.

The giant mulberry tree did not seem to age so much either. It produces the sweetest of fruits and entertains the viewers with the most enthusiastic silkworms. Such wonderful sceneries, it reminded the village chief of his youthful days. He could reminisce splendid memories of the past.

The wheels of time are so vicious to aging men. If only we could reverse the wheels revolving motion, only to live again. Oh, how much his heart long for those bittersweet days. His upper lids kissed his bottom ones, as his vision turned black. His mind played the castes of the past days: The tragedies of his village fall, the joys of meeting new friends. Tragedies did not desert him; for he lost his mother and was separated from his lover.

That day where he sat on his steed on the hill, only to gaze at his departed lover from afar. Distance did not serve their eyes to meet. Nonetheless, their hearts did instead. Their souls cry for this forbidden.

Why must fate part two lovers? His mind did not accept the news of her demise.

"It cannot be true. It cannot be true."

He lies to himself again and again. Fate is quite cruel for those two. His memory of her was as clear as the water, as vivid as the rising sun. "What have become of my distant friends, I wonder. . ." Spoke he as his gaze settled on the sky.

It appeared as though the heavens were being tormented with the evil of the Omen. "What will become of the world. . . ?" Dark pupils narrowed at the side the moment he detected a vaguely familiar presence. The sound of footsteps were drawing near by the passing seconds until the visage of a fair lady came to his sight.

Her body was clothed with the finest crimson fabric. So was her hair that reflected the hues of ebony and violet was arranged neatly using hair combs made of pure gold and pins of silver.

From what her appearance displayed, she is a wealthy woman, so what would bring her here on such a late hour all by herself?

Jubei acknowledged that she was not the individual he felt coming near.

"Lord Jubei Yagyu?" In the sweetest of voices she vocalized her words wearing a concerned look on her face.

"That, I formerly am. . . Who might you be?" Her index rose to her face as the concerned expression was washed away with a somewhat sensuous and cunning glee. "Do you not recognize this face of mine? I'm sure the name crossed your mind."

The similarities could not be unnoticeable for the eye to perceive, from the moment his viewing spheres came across her face the image of his late Oyu flashed in his mind. He had heard that she has three daughters that time, could she be one of those three she mentioned? Certainly, did he feel astound of meeting her at such time. However, his face did not display any faint colour of what he is now experiencing from emotions.

This female, she had that aura that was somewhat cynical, she might be the daughter of the woman he loved but for some reason, he felt as though she could be as devious as a snake.

"I am an elder, my memory has failed to help me. I do not recognize you." His mind was at denial of her being the child of his dearest Oyu, she appeared to be malicious and intending to commit all evil, nothing like Oyu.

↱ Might she have inherited her beauty but none of her graces. ↲

A small sigh escaped her rosy lips, her index now lowered so were her lids. "Oichi—No, Oyu. . . She is my deceased mother. I have heard from her that you two were in deeply in love. You have helped and saved her countless of times. Oh Great Jubei. But now she is long gone. That devil formerly known as Tokachiro was the cause of her death. Still. . . I cannot help but wonder. . . Why were you not there for her? You have always come to visit in secret, always. Why weren't you there at such a dire time? Should you not take part of the blame?"

The elder Sekishusai remained speechless after hearing what she said, it has always been this way. Even before her visit, the thought of: 'If I were there at that time, she would be alive. Then we could run away and live our years together. If only. . .'

"That man who murdered my dear mother is now my husband, I maybe alive and breathing. However, I feel as though I have been slaughtered twice; for being wed to that man and losing my mother."

Her tone was accompanied with rage and resentment, her words might have fooled the audience. But it is unknown if that her heart was genuine with these statements. Silence overflowed the atmosphere until it became no longer bearable. It was soon cut by the scornful voice of a lad he knows so well.

"What's wrong old man? Can't even apologize to the daughter of the one you killed? Heh, you're truly rotten, eh."

"Munenori?!" His wrinkling lids stretched open in great astonishment to see his rebellious 'son'. Without called hesitation, he drew his blade from its sheath ready to strike if required. Munenori rose his hands to the air then he spoke. "No need to get worked up old man. I'm only here for a little visit." A satisfied smirk adorned Yodo's face as she stepped closer to the swordsman. "You've finally arrived.~"

Then, the former Jubei assumed that this lady is associated with his son. "So you're with him."

Yodo pushed both her hands on the youthful Yagyu chest and pressed her cheek against it. Her silver eyes wandering at the elder glaring.

"Wouldn't you dispose of that body that is begging to decay?"

His palms rested on the edge of his swords' handle, his fingers embracing them as he pulled them out. And by that time the ebony beauty pulled away.

"Sword fighting, I do so hate. I won't put down these blades until I have your head sliced."

With that he charged at his aging father. The dark night was illuminated with flashing swords. The battle was intense, the crows that always accompanied their Master assaulted Jubei's face, this gave Munenori the upper hand and the chance to throw his final strike. He pierced his sword at his chest then extended his leg only to his body to the soil that was dressed in blades of grass.

"Agh—" Blood gushed out his mouth with that wound, was this the end? Is this how the ending of Sekishusai Yagyu story?

"You look so pathetic now, eh old man? How does it feel when you're helpless? How much I'd love to dig your eye out and stab you a thousand times. But what's the fun in that? You seem to have given up already. I want you to struggle and cling to your life. Think of that 'which' that you love, find a purpose, a reason to stay alive. Only then I will kill you and crush every bit of your soul. The same way you crushed hers."

He spoke in a tone that knew of no mercy, after that he took his leave accompanied with partner. They both walked further and further away.

"Like a butterfly trapped in a spider web, you had his life in your hands. However, you destroyed the trap you have created and allowed your prey to flee. A shame. . . Truly."

"It's not his time yet. I'll end that miserable life of his soon but not now."

Whatever reason does this lad lust for vengeance? What is that ebony serpent scheming? And what is that sinister Omen that brought corruption and misfortune to the land? What shall become of the stories of these souls?


	5. A Tale Born From Disillusionment

『 A Poem Of Despair 』

The wheels of time continue on revolving, knowing of no beginning and no end. Turning in tempestuous motion to most, and in a tranquil manner to a few. None can predict how these wheels would turn. It only follows the command of its majesty wheels, 'The Wheels Of Fate'.

Fate gives commands to time creating a lifeline— a timeline. Fate is both a Tyrant and a Valiant, as Time remains its servant. Fate is cruel, ruthless, wonderful, merciful and mysterious. There are countless of angles to view 'Fate', and each eye has its own theory. Fate is somewhat similar to Death, in a mind free of ties, Death is neither good or evil, it is nothing but inevitable. So is Fate's commandments are inevitable.

' _How much time has passed? How many years? I have grown to the beautiful bride you dreamed of but you aren't here to see. I have waited. . . And waited. . . And waited. . . For you to return. . . My eyes never parted from the skies. . . In hopes of you descending from the Heavens. . . I wait clinging to all the remaining hope in my heart. . . So you'd come to me. . . I can only dream of your smiling face. . . Wish for your hand to arrange my hair. . . Mother. . . I. . .'_

A heart that was once so full of life and joy is now occupied by void, only to be filled with sorrow and regret. A mind that speaks silently of its undisclosed desires. Orbitals that reflected not the colour hazel alone, but brilliant shades of sadness, settled on the cloudless sky. Gazing patiently for something that is unlikely to come, like waiting for the snow to fall during the warm season of Summer.

The light of the sun was almost blinding, always captivating the senses. A superior mind might believe that the piercing brilliance is only shot to all sights to obstruct something dear to this burning star.

Her bottom lash-line greeted her top, hazel spheres were concealed beneath their sockets well. Once her vision turned black, a film reel of memories adorned the void. Ever since that day, she was always accompanied with misery, from a tragedy to another. However, the greatest tragedy she has known is the blazing flames the devoured her home. Everything has turned to ashes, the Japanese Dolls, her Father's precious antiques, her Mother's beautiful Kimonos made of silk, all their memories and happiness went away along with the traveling ashes.

After the demise of Oichi's husband, the woman who once battled along with the famous Jubei stood at the balcony during the night. All is gone, nothing is left. Her children were stripped from their childhood, they sipped from the bitter liquor of war.

What is there to live for? Death would be sweeter than to be wed to the man who is a sworn enemy. But what about the little ones she has brought to this soil? What will be their fate? At that very moment, the only person she was thinking of is Jubei. A smile came across her lips, remembering that night before each took their separate paths, the night where they both shared their first and final kiss. It was truly genuine. No word could escape their vocals so they chose to be silent. And this silence was worth more than a thousand words.

"Do you remember. . . Jubei? I was waiting at a balcony like this all by myself. . . Upset that I couldn't find my precious hairpin. . . You found and gave it to me. . . I. . . Jubei. . . Do you still remember me like I remember you? Can you hear me as I think of you?"

Her fingers embraced the balcony's rails tightly, gazing at the night's sky for the final time then at the ground that laid many meters away from her. The same shattered smile stayed plastered on her lips.

"I want to see you again. . . Once more. . . Only one more time. . . ."

She whispered her last words under great pressure, little did she know that she is being watched. Small fingers crept through a narrow open space of the sliding door, one eye peeking. It was her second daughter observing. The thought of having her mother fall to her death never came across her mind.

Her body met the soil as a loud thud disturbed the unsettling silence. Those little fingers slammed the door open as her limbs motioned rapidly forth to catch her, but she has already fallen. In spite of all that, she reached her hands to the open space, in hopes of restoring what is lost. It is only then she has realized that all effort is futile. Her legs began shaking, her hands settled on her head, her fingers digging through her hair. She kept shaking her head in denial of what had occurred. Her eyes were never this wide. And a scream of agony was never heard so loud. This scream attracted her eldest sister. Panicked, she ran to the balcony and rushed to her sibling's side, with a concerned look dominating her features.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Mom is. . . Mom is. . ." She muttered still whimpering. Without the need to hear her whole statement, Cha-Cha placed both her hands on the balcony's rail to peek down. Her silver hues caught witnessed a fallen woman who resembled a person she knows too well. Her fingers began trembling at the horrid sight.

Ohatsu trapped her eldest sister in her arms tightly, thinking as though she would follow the same course of action. The middle sister rubbed her face against her sister's back as her fingers dug Cha-Cha's kimono.

"No. . . Don't leave me. . . Please Cha-Cha. . . Don't jump. . . I. . . I need you." Words accompanied with sincerity escaped her vocals. The eldest turned her head to catch glimpse of the younger one, she turned around and pulled Ohatsu in an embrace. Her hand brushing through her brown hair, comforting her.

"I'm not going anywhere. . . I won't jump. Everything will be fine. So don't cry. Everything. . . Will be. . . Fine."

The whole time she kept reassuring the younger two that all will go well, and this pain is only a part of life itself. What is there to lose next? Now she is not sure herself.

' _You have left heavy burden on my shoulders. . .'_

Building their lives from scratch alone is no longer an option, the three maidens were forced to move into the Toyotomi Clan. Worse of all news was that the eldest one of them was compelled to be wed with the man who burnt her home, killed her father, delivered them misery.

She was sitting on her shin, her thigh kissing her calf. Dressed in the fanciest kimono rich in red, her ebony tresses were adorned with hairpins made of pure gold, not a single hair was misarranged. She is offered to live the life of a Queen. However, none of these privileges filled her eyes.

Solitude forsaken her the moment the sliding door gently opened. The orbitals which reflected the mixture of silver hues and pain gazed upon the visitor. It was Ohatsu. The other lady sat across her sister, holding her hand.

"Cha-Cha. . . Oeyo left. . . Cha-Cha. . . I. . . I'm. . ."

Although their hands were joined, neither of them could have their eyes meet. Acknowledging that her younger sibling is at loss of words, her lips curved upwards slightly, displaying a faint smile. Her eyes were still filled with nothing but the void itself.

"Ohatsu. . . Everything will be fine. . . Just. . . Don't—"

The most responsible of all was soon silenced by the other.

"No. . . How can you keep saying that? Nothing will be fine. . . Mom. . . Mom is gone. . . Everyone is gone. . . Everything is destroyed. . . How can you be so calm? She'll never return. . . We can never go back. . . We'll merely have fates decided by those who stripped us from the little joy we had in this miserable life! . . . Tell me. . . Cha-Cha. . . How is it. . . ? How will anything be fine. . . ? Cha-Cha!"

Great pressure was placed on the hand that she now holds, her eyes gathered all the tears she hasn't shed for the whole day. Only a single droplet dared to escape.

"Everything. . . Will be. . . Fine. . ."

She spoke again as though this was the only line she has learned. Her thumb trembled slightly. Traumatized would be a fitting description, traumatized of being the only one responsible to the remaining of her crumbling family, traumatized of having to be wed with the man she loathes, traumatized of being alone in this.

' _I know. . . That I can't be saved. . . Nothing can save me. . . No one can save me. . . Even if they wanted to. . . I can't be saved.'_

After hearing the same response as always, Ohatsu released her hand and quietly left the room.

' _It has been so long. . . I wonder how many days have passed. . . ? Why. . . Why did you leave?'_

After the recollection of the past's unpleasant memories, she has concluded with the memory of the man she longs for, the one who left the clan without saying a single word. Her lids parted to gaze upon the sky, the sun was still hung their along with a distant Omen.

"I wonder what Fate has planned. . . Will we ever be free?"

At the same city yet in a different time, we travel back to the past to digest the unspoken events of each individual tale.

The clock has ticked to this specific hour, for this specific judgement to take place. The gloom bride, a maiden with a ripe body is chosen to be the next Concubine for the tyrant Hideyoshi. She looked like a deep crimson canary with torn wings, a featherless bird, consumed by the void. After the marriage was arranged, Japan's new ruler walked to his bride-to-be room. The dresser's index and thumb supported the brushes' handle, brushing its vermilion soaked bristles against her delicate lips.

"Are you not excited to be my wife, Yodo? You shall be treated like a Goddess as long as you remain with me."

Silver coloured irises narrowed to his almost disappearing eyes, she gave no heed to any word he uttered at all, except for the name he addressed her with.

"Yodo. . .?" Her perfectly lined eyebrow arched upwards displaying slight perplexity.

"You will no longer be called 'Cha-Cha'. As of now, your name is Yodo. I bestow on you the Yodo Castle."

"Oh. . . How very kind of you Milord." Words were nothing near genuine, dry and void. Not only was she robbed from all the joys of being alive but also not allowed to use the name her Mother gave her.

"I am looking forward for tonight, are you not?"

"So am I. . ."

With that, the short man left the room after making its atmosphere sickening by his presence alone. Yodo— who is formerly known as 'Cha-Cha' a minute ago pulled her face away from the dresser. A smile spread across her lips widely, a devastated laugh escaped her vocals, shocking the servant.

"Lady Yodo?"

After several seconds of laughter, her gaze settled upon the ceiling, gazing intensely with blank eyes.

"When will I ever be free?"

•●○•°•●○•°•●○•°•●○•

In what motion will the wheels of Time revolve? What will be the commandments of Fate? How much further will the tyranny stay?


End file.
